1Cademy - بخش ۳ - الحکایه و التمثیل / Section 3

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Asrar Nameh

Poem

بخش ۳ - الحکایه و التمثیل / Section 3 - The Tale and the Parable

Original content

یکی را دید آن دیوانهٔ دین
که ترکی مرده را می کرد تلقین

بدو گفت «اعجمی ترک تو آنگاه
که زنده بود ناافتاده در چاه

نکو نشنود اندر زندگانی
که مرده بشنود تلقین چه خوانی ؟

چو این ترک اعجمی بد کز جهان شد
مگر زیر زمین تازی زبان شد!؟ »

نبینی نشنوی هم چون کر و کور
از آن انگیزی این چندین شر و شور

رقیب دست چپ را مانده شد دست
ز بس کردار تو بنوشت پیوست

رقیب دست راست آزاد از تو
قلم بر کاغذی ننهاد از تو

نیاری از نماز خود چنان یاد
نماز تو به شهر کافران باد

نیایی در نماز الا به صد کار
حساب ده کنی و کار بازار

چو گربه روی شویی بعد از این زود
زنی باری دوی سر بر زمین زود

نظاره می کنی از بی قراری
زمانی دل درو حاضر نداری

نمازی نغز بگزاری و تازه
سبک تر از نماز بر جنازه

غمت آن لحظه بی اندازه افتد
که آن دم کیکت اندر پازه افتد

چو بگزاری نماز خود به مردی
ندانی تا چه خواندی یا چه کردی

شره دنیا سرت برد به هیچی
سر از پیش خدا تا چند پیچی

اگر این خود نماز ست ای سبک دل
گران جانی مکن اینت خنک دل

تو دانی کاین نماز نانمازی
به ریشت در خورد تا کی ز بازی

English translation

That madman of religion saw someone, Who was reciting the Talqin for a dead Turk. He said to him, 'Your Turk was ignorant of Arabic then, When he was alive and had not yet fallen into the pit (grave). He did not understand well during his lifetime, How will he understand the Talqin now that he is dead? What are you reciting? Since this Turk was ignorant when he departed from the world, Did he somehow become an Arabic speaker beneath the earth!?' You neither see nor hear, like the deaf and blind, That is why you stir up all this mischief and commotion. The recording angel on the left has his hand exhausted, From continuously writing down your deeds. The recording angel on the right is free from you, He has not set pen to paper on your account. You do not recall your prayer in such a proper way, Your prayer belongs in the city of the infidels. You do not enter prayer without a hundred preoccupations, You do the accounting of the village and the business of the market. Like a cat, you quickly wash your face, You quickly strike your head on the ground a couple of times. You look around out of restlessness, For a moment, you do not keep your heart present in it. You perform a fine and fresh prayer, Lighter than a funeral prayer. Your sorrow becomes immeasurable in that moment, When a flea bites your leg. When you perform your prayer boldly, You do not even know what you recited or what you did. Greed for the world has brought you to nothing, How long will you turn your head away from God? If this itself is a prayer, O light-hearted one, Do not be heavy-souled; here is to your cold heart. You know that this non-prayer of a prayer, Only suits your own beard (mocks you); how long will you play games?

Updated 2026-07-03

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